Zoey
by Swiftchanted
Summary: Seventeen hours, forty nine minutes, twenty four seconds. Rated T for a reason.


**So here we go; angsty oneshot! I'll probably cry in the writing of this…have no fear! Be sure to listen to Strange by Dakota/Michelle Hemmer. It's what I worked to. I hope you guys like this. And cry. If you cry or feel any sort of sad/touching emotion, then my work here's done. ;)**

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><p><span>Stella<span>

I felt like I was suffocating. I felt like there was no air going into my lungs, my head was getting light, and I sighed, trying to catch a breath. "Let it go Stells…just let it go, breathe." I looked down at my phone, seeing nothing but a pitch black screen. That's all I felt. Like my heart was hollowed out, no life, just black. A tear rolled down my cheek as I tried to ignore the ache in my heart. People can be cruel, Stells, you know that. But did they need to be that cruel? I needed some sort of escape and I needed it fast. So I picked up my phone and dialed the last person I'd ever go to, yet they seemed like the person to go to in this situation- Scott Pickett.

Scott

Charlie and I were sitting on the couch in Victoria's basement, watching a movie when my phone vibrated. Things were very tense- Charlie and Victoria had just gotten done yelling each other about God knows what, and Mo, being a peace keeper, had taken Vic upstairs to cool off a bit while I tried to get Charlie's mind off of things. I didn't even bother checking who the caller was. It wasn't important to me at the moment.

Stella

And naturally, Scott didn't pick up.

Walking into my bathroom, their words echoed into my head. No matter how much I tried to block them out, they just grew louder and louder. It was almost impossible to drown them out. I turned on the shower, taking the handle and pushing it all the way over to the hottest temperature possible. I then turned around and locked the bathroom door. No one was coming in. Pulling a razor out of the drawer, I could feel the heat from the shower starting to get to me. I couldn't even see in the mirror at this point. It was so hot; the fire that was raging on top of my skin was ruthless. I grabbed the razor and pressed it forcefully to my arm, and that little twinge of coolness was nothing but relief. Relief. As the razor slid down my arm, I let out an uneven sigh. "Letting go…breathe…" A drop of blood appeared, and I gave a shaky smile. The steam from the shower washed over me as nothing but sweat, blood, and false relief coated me.

Charlie

"You got one missed call, bro." Scott just shrugged as I reached out to grab his phone. "Dude, it's from Stella." Again, another shrug. I had this horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach. Something was wrong. "I'm gonna call her back, alright?" Scott just nodded as I dialed Stella's number. No answer. Maybe she couldn't hear her phone, just call again. So I hung up and called again. And again and again. Scott just gave me a crazed look. I dialed her number and let it ring.

"Hey this is Stella-"

"Stella, thank God, I was getting worried-"

"Sorry, I can't get to the phone right now, but leave your message and don't call me fifty more times afterward, I'll get back to you when I can! Bye!" I stood up slowly. Something was wrong. Something was horribly, horribly wrong. Scott just looked at me.

"Dude, where are you going?"

"Stella's. Something's not right, I can feel it. I'll call you." I said, walking out of the room. Victoria, who was sitting upstairs, smiled at me as I walked past, but that smile quickly faded. She stood up as I finally reached the door, putting my hand on the doorknob as she cleared her throat.

"Where do you think you're going?" she asked. I spun around to see her with her hands on her hips. Mo was sitting on the couch trying to look as though she wasn't paying any attention, but it was obvious she was absorbing the whole conversation like a sponge absorbs water.

"Something's wrong with Stella, and I'm going to find out." I stated flatly, turning back around opening the door. Victoria grabbed my shoulder and twisted me back around, her eyes turning into slits. For a tiny girl, she was very, very strong. "Let me go," I shouted.

"It's Stella this, Stella that, every hour of the day! You practically breathe for her! You walk out of here to go find her, we're over. It's me or her." Victoria said, her voice dangerously quiet. Mo was eating every bit of this up, and her eyes were flashing wide telling me to get the hell out of there. I looked back at the blonde girl in front of me.

"Then I guess we're over." I shrugged, turning and walking out the door. I could hear her behind me screaming to turn around and come back, but things were over, just like she said they would be. I started into a full on sprint to Stella's house, dialing her number over and over again, hoping and praying to God that she'd pick up. But I continually got that damned voicemail. I finally arrived at her house, and tugged on the door. Locked. Her car was in the driveway, so she had to be home. I bent down and picked up the stone angel that was sitting on the steps and picked up the spare key. I twisted it in the key hole and the door creaked open.

Things in the house were quiet. Too quiet to be exact. I could hear the faint running of water, and my heart rose from my stomach back to my chest, a sigh of relief escaping my lips. She was just in the shower, which was why she didn't answer her phone. See Charlie? Nothing to worry about. I walked upstairs and walked into her room, knocking gently on the bathroom door to make sure she was okay. "Stella? Are you in there?" I said. I didn't hear anything, but I noticed steam coming out from the cracks in the door. What was going on? I tried opening the door, but once again it was locked. I could feel my heart began to race as I banged on the door. Please, please tell me she's just in the shower, singing and pretending to be a rockstar and can't hear me over her voice and the running water. But there was no noise coming from the other side of the door. "Stella! Stella let me in!" I demanded. But she never came to the door.

I raced off to the twins' room. I had to get in that room, and I had no idea how to pick a lock. So I was going to literally take the door down. In the twins' room was a toolbox that they had for when they made their toys, and I quickly grabbed a screwdriver, walking hurriedly back to the bathroom door. I unscrewed all the bolts, and took the door off the hinges. "Stella!" I shouted as I walked into the humid, misty room. I stopped short as I saw the most horrifying thing in my entire life, a sight that belonged strictly on crime scene investigation television and nowhere else. I coughed, looking down and I dropped to my knees, staring at the horrendous scene. There lay Stella, her body in a pool of blood, _her _blood, her hair sticking to her face, sweat covering her fragile body. I picked her up gently and took her out of the steaming room, wrapping a towel around her and pushing her wet hair out of her sweating face. I grabbed the phone off her dresser and shakily dialed 911 as my free hand stroked her raw and bleeding arm. Whoever had caused this was dead to me.

And as the paramedics arrived, I stood there, trying not to cry. Stella needed someone to stay strong for her. There was commotion, but all I heard was that she had been like in a state of unconsciousness for almost two hours. I could've found her and things would have maybe changed. But now, I got to sit there and wait.

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Charlie

Nine hours. Nine hours, forty seven minutes, and thirty two seconds, and Stella was still unconscious. Was there any more hope? I was sitting there cursing my own name, trying not to drift off into sleep, feeling guilty that my heart was beating and there was no telling if Stella's was or not. Mo had come for moral support, seeing as how Stella was her best friend and that I was the one who found her. She was sleeping peacefully, and I was jealous. Jealous that she was able to sleep through all this.

Sure I knew there was pain and worry in most likely every bone in Mo's body, but she could sleep without having that horrible image of Stella lying on her bathroom floor in blood flashing every time her eyes closed. I had to move. I needed to move. Sitting here was eating away at me. So I stood up and walked off to the elevator, pressing the down button. White turned to orange, and the doors opened with a faint ding as I stepped in. The doors closed once again, and the ride down to the main floor was silent, uncomfortable, and alone.

As I stepped out of the elevator, I watched as a nurse wheeled a little girl who looked about seven years old across the hallway. The girl was bald and the first word that came to my mind was cancer. The chemo had made her bald. She smiled at me as the nurse moved her along, most likely back to her room. She was clutching onto a little stuffed bear for dear life, and waved slightly as she was wheeled around a corner. My only assumption was that I looked so torn apart, so absolutely alone, that was the reason she'd tried sending a smile my way.

Walking into the cafeteria, I felt even more alone than I did before. I grabbed a bottle of water, sitting down at a table by myself. Popping open the cap and taking a small swig, I noticed how strange it tasted. Water tasted strange. Things had gone to that level. I pushed away the water as my stomach simply refused to take anything else. I began to think why Stella had done what she'd done. Was she trying to kill herself? Did she want to take her own life? Was she trying to commit suicide? Then it hit me-Stella didn't kill herself. The words of others had.

My stomach twisted as everything unfolded out in front of me. People said things to her. They called her a dyke, a waste of air, useless, ugly, the list going on and on. Strong, determined Stella Yamada had cracked under the pressure. I couldn't even look at the water any more, my stomach was in knots and I felt sick.

It wasn't a suicide, it was a homicide.

Suddenly, it felt like the time. In front of the entire cafeteria, their hypocritical eyes bearing into me, I got down, out of my seat and on my knees. Intertwining my fingers together, raising my hands and closing my eyes, I did something I hadn't done in a long time. I bowed my head and genuinely prayed.

_Dear God,_

_Can you hear me? Things are so crazy and suddenly our song about being heard has faded into darkness. I'm losing hope, God. Stella's in the hospital because people are cruel. People have forced this on her, and she's lost hope too. So she tried to kill herself. I wish people had more respect for things like this, and don't get me wrong, I'm not going all world-peace-enthusiast here, but I wish people would open their eyes and start growing some respect. It's disgusting how people think it's a good thing to hurt others. God, I want Stella to be okay. It's not her time; she's got her whole life ahead of her. I know that if she does die today, she'll go to you and you'll take her under your care, but God, it's not her time. Please God, please, let her stay. Please let her be okay. Please let her wake up, please bring her back, I don't know if I'll be able to live with myself if she's gone. God I need her…I need her more than anything right now. Don't take her from her family, from her friends, from me, not now. I'm losing hope, God._

"I'm losing hope…" I let out in a shaky breath as a tear rolled down my cheek. I felt a hand caress my shoulder, and I turned around to see Mo. "Mo," I sighed. She just smiled sadly, and got down on her knees beside me.

"Were you praying?" she asked quietly. I nodded, the tears rolling down her cheeks now. "Can I pray with you? Please?" she choked out. I took her tiny folded hands into mine, and we stayed there in the cafeteria, knelt down, praying for Stella and some hope.

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Charlie

Nine hours was now sixteen hours. I was still without sleep, staying awake just in case Stella awoke. The little girl that I had seen earlier and her smile were almost as fixated in my mind as the mental image of Stella on her floor were. Mo was sitting there, tapping her foot impatiently. She wanted news almost as badly as I did. After our praying, things had shifted heavily between us. I stood up, the little girl driving me to go forward. I needed to find that little girl. Where had she gone? Come on…think…she had cancer you think, so a good place to start would be the cancer ward, right? Mo just raised an eyebrow. "Where are you going?" she asked.

"To find someone…come with me?" I asked. She nodded, standing up and smoothing back her ponytail as we walked to the elevator. And again, white turned orange, the doors opened with a soft ding, and we entered the small box, the doors closing. "What floor would the cancer ward be on?" I thought in my head, and apparently I'd said it also, because Mo pressed the button with a one above it.

Walking to the cancer ward, there was silence between us. We reached the front desk in the ward, and I leant forward. "I'm looking for a little girl…" I said.

"Can I have the name of this little girl you're looking for?" the receptionist asked.

"Charlie…oh you mean the girl, well I don't know her name, all I know is I need to find her." I stated flatly, as Mo just looked at me as though I was crazy. She was partially sleep deprived, so I don't blame her, but her look was a bit harsh. The receptionist tilted her glasses downwards a bit and squinted her eyes to get a better look at me. Her eyes lit up as she began to type rapidly, scrolling and clicking. My heart was racing, rising from my chest to my stomach and back again as she slumped in defeat.

"Charlie Delgado?" the woman asked. I nodded frantically. She looked at me, her eyes sorrowful. "I think you were looking for Zoey Phillips, she was looking for you too." I raised an eyebrow in confusion. "That little girl listens to your band every hour of the day. She saw you yesterday and was so excited, she wanted to come out of her room today and meet you. But things got too bad." Mo gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. The receptionist grabbed something that was sitting beside her computer and handed it to me. It was the little teddy bear that Zoey had had yesterday when I saw her. "She told us to give this to you if we saw you again. I'm really sorry." I looked at the tiny little teddy bear, tears in my eyes.

"Thanks for this; you have a nice day ma'am." I said in defeat. Mo rubbed my shoulder as we walked back up to Stella's room. I toyed with the bear, looking at it up and down. Mo then took the bear out of my hands and looked at the tag on the bottom. "What? What's it say?" I asked. Mo's eyes widened.

"Hope…it says hope." I just looked at her in confusion. "Don't you get it Charlie? This little girl, this Zoey, she wanted to give you hope after she recognized you. She gave you hope." Mo said, her voice choked up. I grabbed the bear from her gently. "Charlie, that little girl died, wanting to give you hope. This isn't some weird coincidence. This is destiny, fate we're talking about. We have hope sitting in our hands."

I nodded, walking up to the doorway of Stella's room as she just looked at me. "Stella needs this more than we do, don't you think?" She nodded, and I walked into Stella's room, closing the door behind me. Stella lay in the bed, the color of the white sheets that were on her bed. IVs and tubes were hooked up and down her, decorating her scarred arms. Taking a deep breath, I grabbed a chair and pulled it close to Stella's bedside.

I set the bear down in the crook between Stella's arm and side. Grabbing her hand, I took a deep breath. "Stella, I don't know if you can hear me, but I…I gotta tell you something, able to listen or not. I love you Stella. I love how you scrunch your nose when you don't like something. I love how you smile, showing your teeth and squinting your eyes no matter how hard you try not to. I love how you used to hug me, wrapping your arms around my neck to where your arms overlapped in a plus sign. I love the way you trust me to keep you safe. I love everything about you, and if I had just one more minute with you I'd hold you in my arms and tell you that I love you, Stella Yamada." A tear rolled down my cheek as I clenched her hand tighter, bowing my head.

Stella

I'm not dead, I know I'm not. I thought I was dead, but I'm not. I remember everything that happened to me, losing consciousness and falling into the pool of blood waiting beneath me as I hit my head on the tile floor, I remember it all. I can feel someone clenching my hand for dear life, and I want to jerk away and rub my hand, and yell at whoever it is to loosen their grip. But I can't move. It's like I'm frozen in place and I can't escape.

Escaping was what I was trying to do in the first place, wasn't it? Escaping, letting go, and breathing. Well, I achieved none of those things. I didn't escape, I just got frozen, I didn't let go, I held on tighter, and I didn't breathe, I stopped breathing altogether. I sure do know what I'm doing, huh?

Suddenly, I hear a voice talking to me, quietly and choked up. "Stella, I don't know if you can hear me, but I…I gotta tell you something, able to listen or not. I love you Stella. I love how you scrunch your nose when you don't like something. I love how you smile, showing your teeth and squinting your eyes no matter how hard you try not to. I love how you used to hug me, wrapping your arms around my neck to where your arms overlapped in a plus sign. I love the way you trust me to keep you safe. I love everything about you, and if I had just one more minute with you I'd hold you in my arms and tell you that I love you, Stella Yamada." It was Charlie, telling me that he loved me. I wanted to wake up, I had to wake up.

He mumbled something else, extremely hushed. "Seventeen hours without her, God. Is it going to be more? God, please don't tell me you've taken her." No! No, Charlie, I'm right here, I'm alive, I'm on earth, Charlie I'm alive, I'm just not awake! I'm trying Charlie, I'm trying! Please don't give up on me!

Then I heard Charlie begin to pray. "God, I know Zoey's with you now, but she gave me hope. Mo said that it's no coincidence, that its destiny that I ended up with hope. I don't know where this is going, but God, I'm asking for a miracle. I can't lose her God!" his voice faded out in sobs. I wanted nothing more to open my eyes and tell him it was okay, but I couldn't. "God, I had to walk in there and find her half dead, covered in blood and sweat, I had to suffer through hell knowing that she tried to kill herself because people were cruel and didn't have a drop of remorse in their bodies for hurting her, I need to know she's alive! It's...its killing me God…its hurting me the most, just let me know she's alive!"

I needed Charlie. I needed to wake up and to see his face. I was not going to stay in this unconscious state, not in a million years! Seventeen hours is what Charlie had said. Seventeen hours going on eighteen going on forever probably. Let me wake up! A voice in the back of my head whispered, "It's your choice." It's my choice.

Charlie

I was knelt over her frail, white, unconscious body, hoping for a miracle. "Please," I choked out, more and more tears rolling down my cheeks. She wasn't anything that those people said. She wasn't a waste of air or ugly or useless. She was so valuable, she was flawless, she was so important she didn't even know it. All those nights she'd suffered, crying herself to sleep over nothing. Those people didn't matter. She knew that. But she cracked. And all I wanted was for her to come back so I could hold her and tell her just that.

Then everything seemed to slow down. The faintest movement of her index finger caught my eyes. How I'd seen it, I don't know- it was so faint it could have been a hallucination or just my eyes playing tricks. "Stella?" I whispered. My heart was beating rapidly as I took a deep breath. "Stella, if you can hear me, just squeeze my hand." I then closed my eyes and whispered in God's direction, "Please."

It took almost five minutes for her to muster up the strength to squeeze my hand hard enough so that I'd feel it, and even then it was gentle. Her eyes still weren't open, but she was there. She was awake. That's all that mattered. I traced over one of the scars on her arm, tears of pure bliss in my eyes. To someone else, those scars were hideous. To someone else, she probably looked hopeless, a mess, like she'd seen better days, she probably looked even hideous to some. But to me she looked beautiful. I looked at the tiny bear lying beside her still.

Something hit me. Zoey had died, and then a few hours later, the final diagnosis was Stella had lived. Zoey had hope, and when she died, she passed it along to me. That little girl, just a seven year old, had more in her than I ever would. Just one smile had changed the turn of the tables. If she'd never smiled at me, Stella could have been dead. "Thank you Zoey," I whispered.

Seventeen hours, forty nine minutes, twenty four seconds Stella had been dead to the world. God only knew how long she'd been dead inside. Seventeen hours, forty nine minutes, and twenty four seconds of hell and hope for Charles Thomas Delgado. Time said a lot.

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><p><strong>Wow. So I did cry. A lot. I hope you guys truly enjoyed this. It was a bit depressing, I realize (A BIT EMILY! A BIT! TRY A LOT!), but I do hope you enjoyed it. It didn't take too long to write either, I was pretty shocked. Hope that this story makes you think a little. Tell me what you thought ;) Love, Emzy <strong>


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